


Broken Hearts

by rosymamacita



Series: Arcadia [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kiss, Future Fic, PTSD, Past Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Recovery, after Lexa dies, back in Arcadia, bittersweet fluff, kiss kiss, post s3 speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5889100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosymamacita/pseuds/rosymamacita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After it all happens, Clarke is back in Arcadia, in the little cabin they gave her, hiding from everyone, until Bellamy knocks on her door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Hearts

Clarke had done it again. 

She had killed someone she loved. 

The everyday bustle of Arcadia felt like a rasp, scraping along the raw meat of her heart. She spent most of her time in her quarters, in bed, tossing and turning or staring at the low ceiling. They’d given her a cabin all to herself, even one that was off the beaten path, near the walls, on the delinquent side of camp, but she could still hear the kids playing in the field, the rovers coming in for the night, families and friends calling to each other across the camp. 

She actually longed for the high isolation of Lexa’s tower in Polis, for the view over the city and the forest, off to the mountains and even the sea, twinkling in the distance. It was like all the lives burning like hot little fires down below did not exist, not for real. Not as hungry people, people wanting love, people who suffered.

She heard a group of Arcadians laughing through her windows and wished she hadn’t already shut the glass to the warm summer air. She wished she had it to shut again, to mute the sounds of joy. She recognized the voices going past her window and felt even worse. Those were her friends laughing and she begrudged them their happiness. They had earned it, they deserved it, and it made her miserable.

She wasn’t even able to cry, to tell the truth. All she could do was cover her head with her feather filled pillow and wait for the sounds of her friends enjoying their lives to pass by. That was how horrible a person she was.

The sounds passed her cabin, fading off in the direction of the cantina and she Clarke pulled the pillow off of her head and breathed a huge sigh of relief. 

She rolled over on her side and looked out the window. From the height of her bed, she could only see the sky and the clouds skittering past. She could imagine she was still up high, away from it all. Just for now.

A knock came on the door.

She didn’t even startle. She had probably been expecting it on some level, considering the voices she had heard as they passed.

“Clarke,” he called, quietly through the door. “Clarke, are you awake?”

Clarke sat up in her bed, hugging the pillow to her chest. “Come in, Bellamy.”

The door opened only as much as he needed to slide into her cabin, and then he shut it firmly behind him.

He stood there in the semi darkness for a while, the only light coming from the window she’d unshuttered so she could look at the clouds. It cast him in shadows. His silence making her heart beat faster.

It was hard when she remembered that her heart was still beating. He made her remember.

“Are you okay?” he said. His voice was so gentle she had to swallow hard.

She nodded.

In the shadows she could tell that he cocked his head, but she couldn’t see his expression. He took a slow step forward, as if trying not to scare her.

“It’s just that we haven’t seen you since you’ve been back.”

She swallowed again, afraid that if she spoke, her words would give her away. “I just needed to… rest, for a bit.”

He took another step and nodded. He moved far enough into the window light that she could see his face. He chewed his lip and smiled, gently. “You know you’re safe, right?” He was so gentle, she felt the cracks in her raw heart start bleeding again. 

She shrugged.

“Well you are,” he went on. “Everyone here in Arcadia, we’ll protect you. Your friends, your mother, the council. They’ll all protect you.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. Protection? Did he think she needed to be protected? If anything, they needed to be protected from her.

“And if they don’t give you what you need, Clarke,” he said, as her eyes turned back to the clouds drifting by. “Clarke, look at me.” He sat down next to her on the bed, and she resisted the urge to lean into him, to rest her head on his shoulder just because she wanted to. Instead she hugged her pillow tighter and rolled her head around to look at him.

“If they don’t give you what you need, I’ll protect you.” 

Her brows drew together at his words, at his devotion. Always doing these things that were guaranteed to make him suffer. Throwing himself into danger for everyone else. 

“I loved her,” she said, almost like a weapon. Her heart was fully bleeding now. Open and vulnerable. She had to do something.

“You… loved her,” he repeated, his eyes sliding to the side as he considered her words, his lips pressing together to hide his feelings. But despite all the time they had spent apart, she could still read him, read how her words hurt him. Damn him. 

“I hated her, too,” she said, and felt tears rise in her throat. She pressed her nose into the pillow she clutched so tightly to her chest. “She was wrong about so much,” Clarke said, the words hardly coming out, “but I had to love her to get close. I couldn’t do it if I didn’t love her.”

Her throat closed up. Her vision blurred with tears. Tears. She hadn’t cried in so long. Years, she thought. Where had these tears come from?

Bellamy didn’t speak. Clarke sat and marveled at the fact that she still had tears.

“It had to be done,” Bellamy said. His voice was choked up too.

Clarke’s eyes shot to his. She blinked and the first tear fell. She felt it, hot, tracking down her cheek. Her eyes met his in horror.

“It had to be done,” he nodded, his face grim. 

Another tear followed the first, and then another. Clarke just stared at Bellamy as if he were to blame.

“You’re not the only one who’s had their heart broken, over and over again,” he said. Clarke stared at him and he looked away, shame faced. A tear fell down his own cheek, and without meaning to, Clarke reached up and wiped it away with her fingers, and then pulled her hands back close to her own chest.

“Why do you love me?” she asked. It was the first time either of them had acknowledged it, had said it out loud. 

He laughed, one short sharp, bitter laugh. “Do you think I haven’t tried to stop loving you? I tried so hard not to love you. To just think of you as a partner, a friend. I tried to hate you. But no. I couldn’t hate you, and I couldn’t stop loving you.”

Clarke sobbed. The sound tore from her body, deep down in her chest and she had no control over it at all. More tears poured down her face.

Bellamy turned on the bed to face her, his face concerned. “Do you want me to stop loving you?”

“No!” she cried, before she had made the decision to say anything at all. She covered her mouth as if she wanted to take it back, tears dripping over her fingers.

He leaned forward on his arm, closer to her, but not touching her. And she was so thankful for that. She wasn’t sure if she could handle his touch, right now. She dropped her hands to brace herself against the mattress.

His eyes followed the tears trailing down her face, glanced on her lips and then came back up to her eyes. “I love you because you can’t help but love.”

Clarke snorted, but didn’t pull back, and felt another wave of tears roll through her.

Bellamy nodded. “It’s true. You love us delinquents, with all your heart. You love everyone you’ve lost. You love your mother despite how angry she makes you. You love the Arcadians. You love Pike’s people. You love the Trikru and Azgeda, You love Polis, You loved Lexa. You even loved the people from Mount Weather. You loved every one of them with every fiber of your being, and that’s why it hurt so much when they betrayed you, or hurt each other, or you had to kill them.”

He cocked his head at her, but she had no response. “I’ve known it since Atom, although I didn’t know it would make me fall in love with you then.”

“I’ll never forget Atom,” she said, and she was surprised to realize remembering Atom didn’t actually hurt anymore. “He was the first person I killed.”

“You gave him mercy, Clarke. You saved him from agony.”

Clarke nodded. It had to be done.

“I know, since then, nothing has been as clear cut as that, but that is always how I’ve seen you. You care. You care so much that you will cut out the poison, you will kill to keep the suffering contained, to end it. You will take it on, to save others.”

“I kill to save,” she said, and she could hear how dry her words were. She didn’t deny it, she was surprised to realize. It was true. She was always trying to save her people, other people, everyone she could. 

“You heal, Clarke. You’re a healer.”

Clarke laughed.

Bellamy smiled. “You laughed.”

“It’s funny, Bellamy. I’m Wanheda. Commander of Death. I don’t heal.”

Bellamy shifted, a little bit closer to her side. His smile made her lips curve up in response. 

“You cut out the poison and those who are left behind get the chance to heal,” he shrugged and ducked his head, looking back up at her through his bangs. She wanted to brush his hair out of his eyes.

“Are you healing?” she asked.

He nodded, still smiling. His smile filled her heart. “We’re healing, Clarke. Some more slowly than others. But we’re healing.”

Clarke felt the smile fall from her face. “You…” she said, faltering, “you count yourself among the Arcadians? Or the Delinquents?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m still a delinquent. I suppose that shouldn’t surprise you.” He shoved her a little with his shoulder. She leaned back into him.

“That’s not what I meant. You said ‘we’re’ healing, when I asked if you were.”

He looked at her in confusion.

She breathed out. “You said I love ‘us delinquents.’”

Bellamy looked down at his hands in his lap. 

“Do you think you’re not special to me, Bellamy?”

Bellamy shook his head, his eyes closed and shrugged his shoulders, as if he couldn’t figure out what gesture to make. Clarke took his hand and his eyes flew open.

“The people I love die, Bellamy.”

“Clarke—“

“I kill them.”

“Clarke…” he started, a denial. Clarke covered his lips with her hand.

“Don’t say it’s not true, Bellamy,” she said, looking into his warm eyes, his sad eyes. “I kill the people I love, and I love the people I kill, you said it yourself.”

“But—“ he said against her hand and the movement of his lips and his soft breath against her skin sent a shiver down her spine.

She shook her head against his words. “But not all the people I love are dead, right?” Bellamy blinked at her over her hand. He nodded slowly, as if not sure what was coming next.

“My mom is alive,” she said. He nodded. 

“Raven is alive, Octavia is alive. Lincoln,” she said, although it had been a close thing. “The delinquents are alive.” He nodded again, his eyes warm and dark as he stared at her, hopefully. “We’re safe. We’re flourishing. We have hope. Right?” She could feel his smile under her fingers. She lifted her hand from his mouth, slowly, so slowly, her fingers barely brushing across his lips, his smile. His breath stuttered.

“You’re alive, Bellamy.” 

Bellamy’s lips parted as he looked deeply into her eyes.

“I loved Lexa,” she said, “and I hated her. It was so complicated and it was awful, but you…” she brushed his hair back from his eyes and caressed the side of his face. “I’ve never been divided over how I’ve felt about you.”

He cocked his eyebrow at her. “Never?” he said, and his voice came out a whisper.

Clarke threw her head back and laughed, remembering the rebel king of the drop ship landing and how furious he had always made her. Her fingers ran over his cheekbone. The scar that had arced around it was nearly invisible, just a thin white line. She remembered that scars healed. 

“Well, not for a long time,” she said. “Bellamy,” she sighed and leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. “I want to heal, too.” She breathed him in. 

He pressed a kiss to her hair and her eyes fluttered closed. “I’ll protect you so you can heal,” he said.

“Because you love me?” she asked breathlessly.

He huffed a laugh into her skin. “Yes, Clarke, because I love you.”

“Okay,” she said, and felt the cracks in her heart begin to knit together. She took his hand from his lap and wrapped it in her own again. “I’ll protect you so you can heal, too, okay?”

He took a sharp breath. “Because…” he started, and stopped.

She smiled against his collarbone. “Because I love you, Bellamy.”

“Oh,” he said softly, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, his hand softly rubbing up and down her arm.

She nuzzled her nose into his neck so she could smell him. Her lips brushed against his skin as she spoke. “Because I’m in love with you.”

His hand stopped moving. She could feel his heart beating, so fast, so strong. So steady. “I’m in love with you, too, Clarke, you have to know that.” He spoke against her forehead.

“I do,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead with the lightest of kisses. “Good.”

They sat on the bed like that for quite some time.

“Will you come to dinner with me? Finally have that drink?” he asked.

“I don’t know if I can handle getting so serious so fast, Mr Blake.”

He laughed, and combed his fingers through her hair. Then he cleared his throat. “I’ll be there if it’s too much. If you get…” his words fell off.

“You really want me to go to dinner, huh?”

“They miss you.”

Clarke sighed heavily. “I suppose I need to face everybody some time.” She looked around the inside of her small cabin. It was bare, but safe here. She’d been hiding since she came back to Arcadia and she knew it.

“You don’t have to do it alone. We can do it together.”

She looked at him then, finally, and saw him jolt when he realized what he had said. Together. “I’m sorry, I—“

“It’s okay, Bellamy. Dinner is an okay thing to do together. A good thing.”

“I want to do all sorts of good things together,” Bellamy said, apologetic. 

Clarke grinned and looked up at him through her lashes. “Yeah?”

He blushed and blinked at her. “I didn’t mean that…”

It made her laugh to see him . She had not laughed in years, it seemed. She never felt like she had reason to. She never felt like she had room to laugh. Bellamy gave her room, she realized. He made her feel safe.

Bellamy made her happy.

“Bellamy?” she said and he cocked his eyebrow at her. “Okay, let’s go.”

He smiled and stood, reaching out with a hand to her. She took his hand and they walked to the door.

He reached for the door knob and she stopped him, “Uhm, Bellamy? We go to dinner now and then we have that drink I owe you and then…”

“Then what, Clarke?” he urged.

“Then we talk about what other good things we can do together?”

He tilted his head at her, then bit his lower lip and moved closer. “Yeah?”

She couldn’t help her smile as she moved in to meet him, she lifted up on her toes to press her lips softly to his. He inhaled, shakily, and then wrapped his hand around the back of her head, his thumb stroking her cheek, and kissed her back, softly, sweetly.

Clarke sunk into his kiss. One word resounding through her head. ‘Yes.’ She wrapped her arms around his neck and licked along his lower lip until he opened to her, sending warmth through her limbs.

Bellamy pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, panting slightly.

“Are you okay?” Clarke asked, afraid for a moment that he wasn’t.

He laughed lightly and she felt his breath puff against her lips. “I’m more than okay, Clarke, just being with you. I’m okay.”

Clarke smiled. “Me, too.” And she was.

He pulled back from her and opened the door and when he took her hand and the sky shone down on her for the first time in days, her heart filled with happiness and she had no room to feel guilty about it. His hand was warm in hers. They were safe. They were healing. She could not stop smiling, because she knew that no matter what happened next, right now was good.


End file.
